


The Murphy Way

by MTMM



Category: Milo Murphy's Law
Genre: Marvin freaks out., Worry, premature baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-30 23:11:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8553334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MTMM/pseuds/MTMM
Summary: Marvin is worried his second child will be a boy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Another request, enjoy.

Martin smiled as he wrapped a protective arm around his wife as they laid down to fall asleep. He let his hand rest on her growing belly, and nuzzled his face into her hair. 

“What do you think it is?” He asked before either could drift off to sleep. 

“I don't know,” said Bridget, closing her eyes and turning over, “I guess we’ll see.” 

“I guess we will. What do you want it to be?”

“I don't really care,” she half shrugged, beginning to doze off, “as long as it’s healthy.” 

There was silence for a moment before Martin spoke again, “I hope it’s a girl,” he admitted. 

Bridget smiled, “I know you do, honey.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek, “just don't keep yourself up with it.” 

Martin smiled back and closed his eyes in an attempt to fall asleep. 

He could help but let his mind wander, though, and let unrelenting thoughts of worry vague his mind, with one idea at the center. 

What if he had a son? 

\-----------

“Everything looks good,” said the doctor, running the ultrasound over Bridget's stomach, “would you like to know the sex of the baby? We can send it home with you in the file.” 

Bridget and Martin glanced at each other, both having the same thought, “We would.” Said Martin. On the outside her was calm and collected, but on the inside his mind was racing with all the possibilities associated with having a son. 

The risk was almost too much for his mind to bear. 

\-----------

Martin stared blankly at the sheet in his hands. He wasn’t sure how long it'd been. His mind had wandered so far and all his eyes could see was that one word. 

“Male” 

It was a boy. 

Martin Murphy was having a son. 

Too many things were running about Martin’s mind as he concentrated on the fact that he was about to have a son. All the things he would have to do, all of the things he would have to teach him, and protect him against. 

All of the ridicule and fear he would experience. The people avoiding him, making fun of him, calling him a “freak” or a “jinx” 

Martin couldn't help but be an optimistic person most of the time. It was the Murphy way. It’s how they survived. 

But with every new boy, there was a father out there worrying. 

The door behind him opened, and Bridget’s voice broke his concentration, “Martin?” She questioned, taking a step into their room, “You've been in here for almost an hour, honey. Are you okay?” 

Martin clenched the paper as Bridget came to sit next to him. 

His grip eased, “I’m just...worried.” 

“About having a boy?”

He nodded. Bridget put a hand on his arm, “I know you’re worried,” she started, “but you can't get yourself so worked up over this.” 

“I can’t help it,” Martin flew to his feet, “I mean,” he paced for a moment, looking for the right words, “what if they make fun of him? What of he’s considered a freak, like I was? The last thing I want for any of my kids is for them to go through what I went through.” He paused, taking another second to think. He took a look at the paper in his hands, “what if he hurts someone?” He looked at Bridget, “can you imagine the type of strain that puts on a kids mind? You adapt in time, but as a kid…” he trailed off. “And what if he gets hurt!? What is he gets hurt?” The second time he asked the question to himself. 

Bridget took his wrist and eased him back onto the bed, “Martin,” she started, her voice becoming slightly stern, “you need to calm down.” She lightened, “everything is going to be fine,” she assured, “sure, he may experience some ridicule and bullying, but he”'ll still be your son. And if there's one person I know who can reach him how to fight through that, it’s you. And as for him getting hurt, everyone gets hurt. It’s part of living.” 

Martin slumped, “I know,” he said quietly, “I just remember how hard it was growing up with Murphy's Law. I’m afraid-” he cut himself off and let out a small sigh, “I’m afraid I won't do as well as my father did.” 

Bridget took his hand and gave him a kiss on the cheek, “you'll be wonderful.” She assured, then standing up. 

“Now come on,” she encouraged, “we need to triple Murphy proof this house, buy a new insurance plan, and make a baby room, and we’ve only got three more months to do it.” 

Martin smiled, a temporary sense of relief flowing over his mind. 

\--------- 

As the city’s key safety inspector Martin was well equipped to inspect and improve any safety specifications within his home. 

Though Martin insisted Bridget just rest and relax, the architect was not so keen on doing so and helped in whatever way she could. 

About a month after discovering the baby was going to be a boy the Murphy’s were all set to have a little male Murphy running around the house. 

About two months before the baby was due Martin, Bridget and Sara began their monthly safety inspection, this time paying even closer attention than usual. 

They very thoroughly went over the baby's room before going through Sara’s room, and the main bedroom. 

In the middle of going through her bedroom Bridget stopped. She cringed, dropping her clipboard. 

“Bridget?” Martin questioned, concerned. He put a hand on her shoulder, “Are you okay?” 

She didn't reply. She bent over slightly and took hold of the bed frame. 

“We need to go to the hospital,” she said, turning to the door, keeping a hand on her baby bump. 

“Mommy?” Sara questioned. 

Bridget smiled at the little girl and put out her hand, “take mommies hand,” she instructed, smiling through the pain. 

“Martin, I’m having contractions.” She said as he helped her to the car, “I think the baby is coming,” she breathed. 

Bridget had learned how to stay calm in stressful situations long ago. Even through the pain of contraction and the fear of her baby being born premature she managed to keep relatively calm all the way from the house to the hospital. 

About an hour after reaching the hospital her water broke, and only a couple hours later a little boy was born with the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. 

He weighed in at a little more than three pounds, and was found to have a heart complication that needed to be operated on.  
The Murphy's were never keen on surgery but they had no options otherwise. 

Bridget stayed awake for most of the night after birth, worrying. Sara had been an easy baby, she arrived on time, she was healthy and they were out of the hospital in only a couple days.

This time, though, he baby was in an incubator with an unsteadily beating heart. She held Martin’s hand but neither said anything. Both were lost in their thoughts. Worrying. But also hoping. 

Eventually a nurse came in and told them that the little boy was stable. There were no other defects and they would recommend operating at one month old. 

“We would operate sooner,” she explained, “but we want to give him some time to build up his strength, otherwise he may not survive the surgery.” 

“I’m willing to do whatever is necessary.” Said Bridget quietly, then looking to Martin, who nodded his head in agreement. 

The couple was made to sign some papers, then it was suggested that Bridget get some rest. 

Martin didn't want to leave her side but was encouraged to do so, as he had another child to tend to. 

He gave his wife a kiss on the forehead, “I love you,” he said quietly, then getting a kiss and an “I love you” in return.

Martin retrieved Sara and they headed home. 

“Where's my baby brother?” Asked Sara, “and where's mommy?” 

“Mom needs to stay at the hospital for right now. And so does baby brother,” he half forced a smile, “but don't worry, they’ll be home soon enough. They’re just getting better.” 

“Oh. Okay.” She smiled, “I can’t wait to.meet my baby brother. What’s his name?” 

“We haven't quite decided that sweety”

“What do you want to name him?” 

“Well, we were thinking Mikey.”

Sara cringed the way a child would, “that’s a gross name,” she said. 

Martin chuckled, “Well, then I guess we’ll have to come up with a better name, now, won’t we?” 

“Oh definitely.” 

By this time the two had reached home, and Martin was helping Sara out of her car seat. 

The two went inside. 

Martin sat on the couch with Sara snuggled up next to him as they watched a cartoon movie Sara had picked out before being sent off to bed. 

“Sleep tight,” he wished, tucking her in and giving her a kiss on the head. He turned out the light as he left, and retired to the living room. 

He sat there in silence for a while just thinking. His mind was racing. He didn't know what to do from there. And he was still unsure of how to handle bringing a Murphy boy home. 

So he decided to call the one person who might know, better than anyone, what it’s like to bring home a Murphy boy. 

The phone was left to ring a few times before he picked up. 

“Hello?” Came the familiar voice, 

“Dad?” Martin questioned, 

“Martin!” His father cried happily, “how’s it going?”

“Well, not well, I'm afraid.”

“Oh,” the somewhat gruff voice lowered, “still worried about having a boy are you?” 

Martin signed, “Bridget just gave birth today. He’s here, dad, and he’s sick, and he’s small. I- I just don't know where to go from here. What was it like for you? Bringing home a Murphy boy? One that small and fragile?

“Well the house near grew legs and ran away once we stepped through that door, I'll tell you that.” He began to laugh, but Martin wasn't in the mood. 

He settled down, “listen, Martin, it’s true, you were born a bit early, most of us were. But you're still here. You've pushed through everything this world has thrown at you. So what are you having trouble with?” 

“I’m just worried,” Martin's voice grew slightly, “you did such a good job teaching me everything that I need to know to survive. Showing me that I wasn't different, or weird, or a “freak” what if I can't do that for him? What if he grows up to hate himself, and his condition? I don't want that for him.” 

His father sighed, “The weight of being a Murphy man’s father can be hard to carry,” he started “When you were born, it was hard on us. We worried. We worried you’d let those kids get to you. That we wouldn't be able to teach you the Murphy way. But, you have to understand, every parent worries. When the time comes for you to meet your son, you’ll find you worry as much about how to raise him as you do your daughter. You, survived, Martin, we all have. Look how you turned out. A good job, a wonderful family, what’s preventing him from leading as good a life?”

Martin didn't say anything for a moment. He smiled, “thanks dad,” he said quietly. 

“No problem son. We’ll be out to see the little tike as soon as we can! We’ve got some major repairs to do on the house since the last asteroid hit.”

“Alright. Good luck then, bye.”

“Bye,” 

Martin hung up the phone and delete back in the chair. 

The conversation had eased his mind only slightly. He was still worried, especially considering the state his son was currently in. 

 

\-----------

Bridget rested her hands lightly on the tiny baby wrapped tightly against her chest. She placed around the small room, just concentrating on her her baby's skin against hers. 

She gave him a light kiss on the head, and let her face just rest there for a moment. 

The little boys heart issues were not so serious that he had to be on machines all the time, but it was bound to get worse of it wasn't operated on. 

Bridget got to spend most of the hours of the day with her baby, for that she was thankful. 

A nurse knocked on the door before entering, “Mrs. Murphy?” 

She hummed in reply, taking no concentration away from the little thing pressed against her chest. 

“We just wanted to inform you, since you haven't named him yet, that you have sixty days to do so. We know it’s not easy right now, so no hurry, take as much time as you need, we just needed to let you know.” 

“Okay,” Bridget signed calmly, smiling into her son's head, “I'll let my husband know as soon as he gets here.” 

It wasn't long before Martin arrived. He didn't get to see the baby, as he had to return to the incubator. 

“We need to name him,” Bridget told him. 

“We can't name him Mikey,” Martin told her immediately, “orders straight from the four year old.” 

Bridget smiled, “well alright then,” she let out a small laugh, “orders from the top.” 

The reinstated at nothing for a moment, trying to think something up. 

“I like…” Bridget trailed off, still staring at the wall, “Milo,” she said after a second. She looked to Martin, “I always liked that name.” 

Martin smiled, “Milo it is then.” 

The two signed the papers, and decided on Martin’s mother's maiden name for the boys middle name. 

“Milo Danger Murphy,” Bridget read allowed, “you know, if someone didn't know how to pronounce that it looks like-” 

“All set?” The lady behind the desk asked. The parents handed over the paper. 

The woman gave the name a slightly skeptical look, but filed it away with the others. 

\----------

The month passed quickly, and before anyone knew it little Milo was going in for heart surgery. 

Bridget had come to visit her little Milo every day before the surgery, and was sure to be right there when he came out. 

She hardly left his side while he was in recovery, and was happy to hear that everything went well. 

“Your first scar,” she said quietly, rubbing the little baby's hand, “There’s a lot more where that came from, little man. Just you wait. Every little moment will be an adventure.” 

\-----------

Milo was coming home. 

Martin ran about the house, double, triple and quadruple checking every single tiny little thing. 

“Sara, take these knives and bury them in the backyard,” he said, handing the little girl a block of knives. 

“Daddy,” Sara started as seriously as she could, “you need to calm down.” She advised, putting the knife block on the floor. 

“I just don't want anything to fall on anyone. Especially something sharp. I don't even know why we have knives.” He picked up the block and placed it back on the counter. He checked on the rubber wrapped around the edges of the counters. He made sure there weren't too many pillows on any piece of furniture and emptied practically everything from Milo's room besides a crib and a dresser. He also moved those two things as far away from each other as possible and also moved the crib as far away from the window as possible. To the point where it was halfway in the hall. 

Sara, as her father wrapped all the light fixtures in bubble wrap, was practically giddy with excitement. “I get to see my baby brother today!” She called excitedly, “I wonder what he looks like! I bet he's bald. Will I get to hold him!?” 

“I think that's for your mother to decide,” said Martin, stepping (falling) down from the chair he was on. 

“Milo is still very fragile, we can bring him home but we have to be careful with him.” 

Though both Sara and Martin were allowed to visit little Milo while he was in the hospital, the two found it difficult to do so during visiting hours. 

Bridget had gone to visit him the most while Sara and Martin had only been in a couple of times. 

After Martin was done Murphy proofing the house ten fold he drove to the hospital to pick up Bridget and the baby. 

She didn't need any help getting the car seat in next to Sara’s. 

“Don't touch the baby, honey,” she told Sara. 

“Can I hold him?” The little girl asked excitedly.

“Maybe, when we get home.” 

 

\---------

Bridget waited for a couple of weeks before letting anyone hold the baby besides herself and Martin on occasion. 

When she did let Sara hold the little thing the little girl was practically exploding with excitement. 

“Now support the head,” Bridget instructed, carefully handing the wrapped up baby over to her daughter. 

Sara smiled down at the little thing, “I’ll keep you safe little brother,” she whispered, “don’t you worry.” 

A second later the bubble wrapped ceiling fan fell through the coffee table. 

“Good thing I wrapped it up.” Said Martin, walking to the closet to get a garbage bag and a broom. 

Bridget let Sara hold the baby for a little bit longer before he began to stir. A couple seconds later little Milo let out a soft whine. 

Bridget carefully took back the baby, “I think someone might be hungry,” she said, then making her way up to the baby's room to feed him. 

Martin got the mess cleaned up before getting to work on dinner, which Sara helped him with. 

Little Milo was put down for a nap while Bridget came down to eat. She retired to be almost immediately after eating, exhausted from keeping track of the baby.

Martin joined her a couple hours later. 

The two didn't get much sleep, however, as Milo, at about three in the morning, became fussy. 

They had moved Milo into their room just in case of an emergency due to his minor health complications. 

“That’s your cue,” Bridget mumbled into her pillow, not even opening her eyes. 

Martin slowly lifted himself from the bed and made his way over to the crib. He lifted the tiny baby out and moved into the livingroom. He warmed up a bottle and began feeding little Milo. 

He studied the tiny babies features. He had his mother's nose, and his father's hair. There wasn't much but he had a little tuff right above his forehead. 

Martin ran a finger over his baby's cheek, just admiring how beautiful he was. 

“Life isn't going to be easy for you,” he whispered, “it never is, for a Murphy.” He smiled, “but we make it, and we live. Man, do we live. Someday you’ll have stories to tell, unbelievable stories.” 

As he started down at Milo Marvin’s nerves seemed to melt away. 

Life is unpredictable for a Murphy man, but Marvin was sure that the little boy in his arms was going to be,

Exceptional.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any mistakes, I didn't do a lot of editing. If there are any glaring ones let me know.


End file.
